Chapter One: The Motel
The road leading up to Eclipse Ranch Motel was barren. The asphalt stretched a quarter mile with potholes that scattered the surface. The broken yellow line racing down the center had seen better days. The road was mostly dark, with only one of the twenty-five lampposts left working. Its bulb desperately trying to prove itself. It flickered on and off, blinking with a rhythm you could write a song to. But this vacancy was nothing out of the ordinary; it was expected on this side of town. Bliss, a once small, bustling area filled with life, color, and excitement had dwindled down to a place not worth mentioning. Small glimpses of its triumphs still shone on main street. Though, if you drove a few miles in any direction, Bliss practically would become a ghost town.
At the end of the poorly illuminated road sat an old, stale motel. It used to be the shiniest and most glamorous infrastructure to exist in Bliss, but was now a run-down, pale, rickety structure. It had twelve rooms—six of which were a standard model—with two queen beds, a small kitchenette, a bathroom, and an old radio for some entertainment. Nothing extravagant, yet for its time, considered a luxury. The other six rooms were state of the art, all inclusive models showcasing two king sized beds with hand sewn mattresses, silk sheets, and enough pillows to build the most intricate fort with. Each room had a full kitchen with a double oven, a shiny fridge and a sink large enough to bathe a child. The sand colored carpets made it feel like you were gliding on a cloud with each passing step. Beautifully crafted sconces with gold trim and pearl detailing were mounted along the walls to bring the most picturesque lighting to the room. These suites were reserved for guests who were staying for a longer duration, or often were given to anyone of status coming to visit Bliss, which did not happen very often. But the way the rooms sat now, would tell a different story.
Most of the windows had been ravaged and the cracks in the glass would cast dancing glimmers of rays on the pavement during a full moon’s night. The rich red exterior of the motel had faded to a dull rose and flakes of chipped paint sat scattered on the sidewalk. The main lobby was an impressive glass sculpture of a building. With swooping beams of metal and the shiniest glass that always seemed to be accompanied with small stacks of feathers stuck to it from birds crashing into its crystal atmosphere. Fortunately, the glass still stood intact all these years later, though it had a middling layer of dust sitting over it, which gave the interior of the lobby an orange tint during the day. The giant LED sign at the entrance which now of course, never lit up, had cracks running across the Eclipse Ranch Motel logo. The sign resembled the sun and had beams that wove out of the center with small light bulbs—that when turned on—made it look like it was swaying in the wind. The once vivid glowing blue of the sign now reduced to a pale gray from the burning summer’s sun towered above the motel’s main building, in hopes to catch the attention of passing travelers. With the sign no longer in action, and the building begging to be demolished, there were no hopes of anyone showing up soon.
Off to the left of the motel stood an enormous gate attached to a fence that seemed to trail on for miles in either direction. The large wooden posts would tower over you if you stood in front of it, as if to make you feel inferior. Atop the wooden cross beam and iron gate was an ornate sign labeled Eclipse Ranch, marking the entrance to the stables and rodeo venue for its guests. Bliss was known for its ranches. People from all over the country would come to see their famous rodeo shows. However, there was one ranch who’s reputation outdid itself time and time again. Deadwood Ranch.
Just a block away from Main Street was the largest rodeo venue in the country with the most prestigious herd of horses and showmen. It was no shock that it was the shining jewel of the town. Upon its success, wealthy investors began buying up the surrounding land to start their own rodeo shows to try and outdo each other. The owners competed with pyrotechnics and circus acts; it was a race of who could create the most extravagant show on the planet.
Eclipse Ranch however was nothing comparable. Its venue was small but mighty, selling out shows every night in its prime. The people grew tired of theatrics and craved an authentic rodeo experience that Eclipse Ranch had stayed true to its entire lifetime. Despite its major successes, the same five rodeo shows played repeatedly and their guests grew bored of the same visuals after a few visits. As new entertainment arose such as television and radio, the rodeos littered across Bliss became a thing of the past.
Deadwood Ranch was turned into museum to commemorate its success and to pay homage to the history of Bliss. All the other ranches were repurposed into hotels, banks or grocery stores—except for Eclipse Ranch. Nobody had bothered to do anything with it. Being that it was on the opposite side of town, it didn’t seem profitable to turn it into anything. People would travel a few extra miles for a show, but not for groceries.
The ranch closed its gates one last time, locked the doors to the motel lobby, and went into hibernation. Everyone in town forgot about Eclipse Ranch and as new generations grew up, it became more and more of a forgotten pile of decaying wood. That is, until Asteroid—with his stolen space cruiser— crash landed onto earth many years later.
To Be Continued…
